Game for Three
You know, it is getting really boring in the middle of the night…not in the beginning, where cars still chase each other and last humans hassle on the streets. Also not in the morning, when the city begins to wake up and fills once more with life...but in the middle…*sigh* there is really nothing to do. As years passed I developed a habit to sharpen my blade in those hours. To be honest it is a bad habit. Sure, it stays sharp but also becomes thinner with each sliding of the whetstone along its beautiful edge… It was one of those days, when I hadn’t eaten in a while and felt really hungry. Not like “I could use a snack right now”, no, more like the hunger trying to get hold of my senses, of my mind, control me… should I let it?... speaks it for me already?...would I be able to realize the change? It will be banished soon anyway and I thought about the soft, sweet meat…no, flesh I would sink my teeth into. Throbbing, pulsating, convulsing. Struggling not to be torn away from those bones it got so attached to…I felt myself drooling a little. No really, I have to wait longer. Just a little. It is annoying, sure, but that’s how the game works. Staying out of the line of sight, lurking in the shadows…That is…I don’t know, sometimes it is not even necessary. One meal at a time. I really should call it as such…the food always comes to me…can you even call it a hunt then? I think not. The room I am sitting in is big and pretty. Colorful pictures of unicorns and rainbows cover the tall walls, common to old buildings. Cute little dolls, a pink, tiny backpack, glittering stickers on furniture, drapes with a flower motive, a closet, a bed and even a small nightlight on the table. It is unplugged, as the night only begins. As minutes pass I hear the door open. I am sitting there, right in the open but they do not notice me. How great humans are at ignoring…it must be so great to not see things… The little girl I was watching for so long now enters – she is 10 by now, I counted. Acts still as a child should, suiting for her age. Quite lovely one at that. She rubs her sleepy eyes and goes to bed, lays down and her mother – oh her ever-so-loving mother – wraps the blankets a little tighter around her. Giving her a good-night kiss and plugging in the beautiful nightlight. The girl smiles at her father who stands in the doorway and smiles back. They love her, truly, wholeheartedly, as parents always should. She is their happiness, their main and maybe only drive in life. They wish sweet dreams to each other and close the door, leaving her alone…almost alone. Fifteen minutes later she is already asleep, sweet and sound. Dreaming of all the things little girls dream about. I am stretching all my limbs, coming closer to her. Caress gently her cheek and smile at her golden, curly, silky hair. She frowns slightly and pulls the blankets closer, as if a stream of air just touched her and not my hand. How perfect she is. My personal treasure. If she would to grow up, she would get corrupted…become cynical, rational, ignorant…driven not by longing for happiness but success, riches, status. That’s not happiness, it is vanity. Or maybe the other six would get her - children quickly get envious and angry and once materialism is introduced to her untainted mind, she might become greedy as well. When she grows up a little more, lust and sloth might grip her tight. And unrequited love could drag her into gluttony to damper the pain. Sometimes I think about it – maybe I could stop? Maybe I could just leave this room, go out, do other things. I know I physically could, nothing is chaining me…but the hunger…this hunger that turns to longing and back again…and I am preserving her innocence after all, so why am I judging myself? Everyone has to do what he has to do in order to calm his inner craving, mine is just a little different than that of most humans…is it wrong?...I don’t know, right now the hunger is all that I can feel. No remorse or morality, only this maddening drive, this desire that obliterates my logic and self-preservation. I will do it. I have to. No insecurity is allowed past this point. I look around. The bed, the closet, the drapes. It’s all here, all I need. What will it be? I know! The closet! Yes, that’s good, that’s great! I close the windows, shutting off the light from the moon and stars with those drapes so it does not interfere with my plan. Unplug the colorful nightlight. I move to the closet and take place just a step away from it on the right. The darkness covers me in a mantle of shadows and my eyes ajust to what little light is left. I wait. An hour passes, then another one and finally I hear a noise. Cloth that is being moved around and against each other, suffling and prolonged moaning, then the small wooden door slowly opens. A foot, twitching and stiffened moves out and descents on the floor. Another one follows, then the torso gets dragged along as the grotesque thing wobbles and spasms its way into the room. The scent, oh the scent. I can barely hold myself back as the hunger screams from the inside at me, but I have to make sure that the closet’s doors are sealed again before I can act - one wouldn't want to leave the possibility of escape after all. Some of the creature’s limbs are clearly broken and dislocated, it once was male…I guess. Tattered, wet cloth clings to its melting, decaying skin, the yellow, dirty teeth clack in anticipation. It has difficulties to move, but it does. Driven by the very same lust as I am. It cannot see me, too fixated on the small creature, shivering in its sleep, feeling the presence of something that doesn’t belong here, clutching her teddy tighter. I take a silent step and slowly close the closet's door. Now. I don’t have to hold back anymore. A serene feeling sweeps over my body and soul as I sink my teeth into the soft, sweet, tender flesh that I was waiting so long for. It tries to spin around and bite me, but its neck is between my jaws and my blade fixates whatever working joints it still had, when I thrust it in deeply. Struggle, pointless yet entertaining struggle…My mind blurs in satisfaction… After four hours I finished my silent feast and cleaned everything up. I hear her mother come down the floor to wake her. Give her a kiss, a hug and make a breakfast. Its Thursday, I guess some scrambled eggs and bacon. Orange juice and may… I freeze in momentary shock. I got carried away, careless even. The struggle was not so pointless after all I guess. A part of mine lays on the pillow, mere inches from the child’s face…I don’t have time to remove it, the door opens and her mother enters as I hide behind the drapes. Oh well, I calm myself, humans are pretty well at…explaining stuff. And let’s be honest – where else would a small, white feather come from, if not her pillow? I really should groom my wings a little more often. Written by Kasseopea (talk) Category:Original Story Category:Creepypasta Category:Creepypastas Category:Mindfuck